


Close For Comfort

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Son of Batman (2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, I love the Batboys, Reassurances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Everyone goes to a fundraising gala to support Jason after he's been legally resurrected. Bruce comes to the rescue when each of his boys find themselves a little overwhelmed.





	Close For Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not smiling. :D What are you talking about? I remember when I thought having nine works under my belt was an achievement, but this marks my very own Quarter Quell with a whole lot less violence. :)

          Bruce knows that many of his children have grown up. They like to delude themselves with the idea that Bruce no longer needs them. Sometimes, it breaks his heart a little to think that maybe they don’t need him. 

          His kids also like to prove him wrong. 

          Bruce sees all of them more now than he ever thought he would. Damian is still a minor, so he doesn’t really have much of a choice, but it’s still nice. Dick lives in Bludhaven, but he does make an effort to show up at least once a week. His boys like to say that Alfred invited them, but sometimes, Bruce is certain Alfred is just as surprised as he is. They never mind. 

          Bruce also sees many of his children at charity and red-carpet galas like the one he’s arriving at now. Bruce looks to Jason, who is sitting next to him with a nervous expression. It’s his first gala since being legally resurrected and he’s a little on the anxious side. 

          “Are you all right?” 

          Jason tugs at his collar, grimacing. “Maybe.” 

          “The vultures can’t follow us inside, Jason. Your brothers are already waiting for us.” 

          Jason straightens his bow-tie, running his fingers through his hair in a useless attempt to fix it. It’s never been cooperative. Bruce tries not to laugh as Jason checks himself again. He stops Jason’s fidgeting hands, ruffling his dark locks. Perfect hair has never suited his second son anyway.

          “It’ll be okay, kiddo. I promise.” 

          Jason watches as Bruce steps out of the vehicle and chatter erupts as they bombard him with questions. He cautiously follows, dreading the empty moment of silence before the reporters realize who he is. Pictures are being snapped from every direction, flashes blinding him. His breaths turn shallow and he takes a step back towards the car. 

          Darkness appears in front of him, and Jason wonders where the solace is coming from before he realizes that it’s Bruce’s suit coat. Bruce places a hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.  

          “Hey. Just focus on me, okay?” 

          Jason nods, watching Bruce turn back to the crowd of reporters. He reaches out without thinking, fingers gripping the edge of his coat. “Don’t go.” 

          Bruce offers him a reassuring smile, waving to the people before him to get all their attention. “If you could all quiet down for a moment. I know you’re all excited, but Jason is just a bit camera-shy after his years out of the lime-light. If you want to take pictures, please refrain from using flash and respect his personal space.” 

          There’s murmuring before scattered agreements reach Jason’s ears. Bruce extends an arm to Jason, pulling the boy underneath it as easily as breathing. Jason will never admit it out loud, but he’s braver with Bruce next to him. He can’t help it. 

          Bruce leans his head close to Jason’s, laughing a little as if he’s telling a joke. “I’ve got you, kiddo.” 

          Jason fakes a smile, leaning into Bruce’s side just a smidge. They enter the building, leaving the rabble behind. Jason decompresses, breathing easier even as he plasters a new smile onto his face. He parts from Bruce’s side to go find a place to stand that’s out of the way. Bruce makes his way through the crowd to find Tim surrounded by a few investors. He looks comfortable enough, but his eyes plead with Bruce for an escape the moment they meet. 

          Bruce is still a good thirty feet away, so he makes a show of searching out his son. “Tim?” 

          Tim continues to chatter as he doesn’t hear until Bruce calls for him again. He excuses himself politely, bouncing over to Bruce in his faux search. “Yeah, B?” 

          Bruce wraps an arm around Tim, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Bruce won’t say so, but it’s cute that he can still fit Tim under his arm properly. Jason is almost a reach for him, but Tim is done growing.  

          “Were they that bad?” 

          “Nosy. They want to know about everything about us. I tried to keep it about the company, but for the first time since ever, the investors only wanted to talk about people instead of numbers and contracts.” 

          Bruce hums, steering his third son towards the food. Tim picks up a piece of chocolate and munches on it rather happily. “You’re patient with them, though. That’s good.” 

          “I was waiting for a knight in shining armor, but instead I got a bat in sweet-looking Kevlar.” He tilts his head, though Bruce would never deign to call it adorable in front of him. "Or in your case, an expensive tuxedo." 

          “How unfortunate for you.” 

          Tim laughs, stuffing a small sandwich in his mouth and leaning into Bruce’s side. Bruce always hates how chilly Tim’s skin feels, so he rubs his shoulder a little to get the blood flowing. Tim hums, closing his eyes. Bruce presses a paternal kiss to the top of his head, sighing in the moment of quiet.  

          It’s only when Bruce hears Damian’s voice rising that they pull away. Tim yawns, flapping a hand at Bruce so he’ll go after Damian. Bruce leaves Tim’s side with a quiet goodbye and heads for Damian. He’s explaining to a pack of old ladies how he got his broken arm. Damian makes a grand gesture as Bruce comes up behind him, nearly knocking a serving platter from a waitress’s hand. Bruce steadies him, ruffling his hair as he continues his story.  

          Bruce watches over his other sons from his place, not seeing Dick as of yet. It’s not a surprise that he’s late. Tim and Damian showed up together, but that doesn’t mean that his eldest son abides by the same timetable.  

          Damian doesn’t have a chance to protest as Bruce swoops him up onto his hip, instead holding back a small growl of irritation and continuing his tale. Bruce smiles. His son is a good story-teller whether he wants to believe it or not. His imagination is beautiful, and he loves that Damian has the opportunity to spin stories with it. Damian has no idea how much joy it brings Bruce to see him doing something childlike.  

          He’s so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t notice Damian pressing more heavily against his shoulder until he’s asleep. Bruce quietly wishes the ladies a wonderful evening and walks up to the second floor where it’s quiet. No one should be up here, but he doubts anyone will stop him.  

          “So, what did they think, Damian?” 

          “They were amused, though their feeble age-bitten minds could never truly comprehend the complexity of the full situation.” 

          Bruce hums. “You fell down the stairs. What’s so complex about that?” 

          Even though it’s the truth, Damian scowls. “I had a single moment of imbalance which wouldn’t have occurred had my immune system not been compromised. It will not happen again.” 

          “It’s not a crime to get sick.” 

          Damian sighs, sinking against Bruce’s shoulder. “Very well." He grumbles, situating himself to his own standards of comfort. "Should you like to rejoin the crowd, I will accompany you.” 

          It’s been a long couple of days for Damian, so Bruce informs him that it’s also not a crime to nap while Bruce makes his rounds. When his ten-year-old son is safely asleep on his shoulder, Bruce takes it as a symbol of trust. They’ve come a long way to get here, and Bruce feels no desire to go back. When people realize that Damian is asleep, they keep chatter to a minimum around Bruce even if they do happen to coo a little. 

          Bruce finally spots his eldest son towards the end of the night, not having seen him on all his other passes because of the crowd that is fully surrounding him. He doesn’t show it to the group, but to Bruce it’s clear as day that he’s probably caught Damian’s cold. He looks tired and maybe even a little warm if his skewed bow-tie is anything to go by.  

          Bruce tries not to be a helicopter parent. He really does, but sometimes he can’t help himself.  

          “Dick?” 

           His head comes up and he smiles, turning his attention to Bruce. “Hey, dad. Need something?” 

          Bruce ignores the way his heart flutters at being called dad. Instead of dwelling on it, he quietly rumbles, “It’s time for us to head home, I think.” 

          Dick glances between his eager spectators and Bruce, nodding once as he pushes off the wall. Leaning is never a good sign. Dick always has perfect posture. Normally, Bruce would have them stay until the end of the event, but it’s looking like a good idea to turn in. Dick doesn’t even protest Bruce’s suggestion for him to stay at the manor.  

          Bruce collects Jason and Tim, almost escaping before he’s caught at the door. A kindly old woman smiles at him, seeming the most genuine out of all the people he’s talked to tonight. She places a careful hand on Bruce’s free arm, warmth in her expression. It’s just what Bruce has been needing to remind himself that not all people are blood and information-sucking vultures. 

          “They’re a blessing, aren’t they?” 

          Her voice wakes Damian, though Bruce knows he’s pretending he isn't awake and doesn’t hear it. “Yes.” 

          “A handful too, I’d be willing to bet.” 

          He turns his head as he watches Jason turn his face away from the cameras, hiding behind Dick’s frame as much as possible. He doesn’t remember Jason being so jumpy, but a lot has changed since Jason came back. Dick simply leads on, a hand on Tim’s shoulder as they all step into Tim’s vehicle. Dick must have shown up with Damian and Tim after all. 

          “They like to pretend to be and sometimes are, but... I really don’t know what I’d do without them.” 

          The woman – Allison, if Bruce’s memory is correct – pats his shoulder. “That’s the beauty in seeing you here with your boys. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t feel the same way.” 

          Bruce gets a warm feeling in his chest, smiling at Allison and bidding her goodnight. He walks out to the car where Alfred is waiting, barely even noticing the press around him. They don’t even seem to exist anymore. He slips into the vehicle, guarding Damian’s head with a hand. Damian doesn’t offer any protest to the gentle handling and Bruce carefully presses a kiss into the boy’s hair. He's not always the most confident as a father, but tonight has helped to ease his worries a little. Even if it hadn’t, the way Damian curls a little closer to him and falls asleep again is more than enough.  

          He doesn’t believe in miracles, but even the most pessimistic part of him has to admit something went inexplicably right for him to come this far. His boys are his world, and he won’t be giving that up anytime soon. 


End file.
